"May
I kiss the other cheek now?" I asked. She turned it to me, and when I
had kissed it rapturously, I gazed into her eyes, which looked back,
bright and unabashed, into mine. "I think--I think I made a slight
mistake, Yoletta," I said. "What I meant to ask was, will you let me
kiss you where I like--on your chin, for instance, or just where I
like?"
"Yes; but you are keeping me too long. Kiss me as many times as you
like, and then let us admire the prospect."
I drew her closer and kissed her mouth, not once nor twice, but clinging
to it with all the ardor of passion, as if my lips had become glued to
hers.
Suddenly she disengaged herself from me. "Why do you kiss my mouth in
that violent way?" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks
flushed. "You seem like some hungry animal that wanted to devour me."
That was, oddly enough, just how I felt. "Do you not not know, sweetest,
why I kiss you in that way? Because I love you."
"I know you do, Smith. I can understand and appreciate your love without
having my lips bruised.
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